Not Alone
by Bonkers4Reid
Summary: "Neal tried again to retrace his steps, to remember what he had been doing before he'd awoken in this horrible, pain-filled place." A bomb has detonated in the FBI building, leaving Neal bloodied, confused, and pinned under the rubble. As he slowly collects his thoughts, he remembers that he is not alone. Lots of Neal-whump to come! My first White Collar fic.
1. Pinned

_Hello fanfiction world! So I've had way too many "plot bunnies" running around in my head, rattling my skull. I already have two Criminal Minds multi-chapters in progress, and I've started working on a Sherlock oneshot (but that one may take a while to come to surface, as I'm working out a lot of kinks), but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Apologies to my CM readers, I promise I will update those soon though!_

_So here you go, a new multi-chapter fic for White Collar! My first time dipping my toes into this fandom! (Excited) This will probably be three, possibly four chapters total. Expect them to be short and sweet and full of delectable Neal-whump!_

_I'm not claiming ownership of White Collar in any way, shape, or form. Not for profit, purely for enjoyment._

* * *

"**A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward." ~ Jean Paul Richter**

* * *

Neal opened his eyes and was instantly forced to shut them again. What little light that forced its way in past the dust and the blood in his eyes seemed to stab straight through into his already addled brain. He was lying on his side on the hard ground.

Though thoroughly coated in it, there seemed to be more dust in the air than on his body. It made breathing absurdly difficult, but Neal needed to take a deep breath in order to collect his thoughts. This effort only drove him to cough violently, which rattled his aching head and agitated his shoulder which he'd not yet realized had been dislocated.

Neal tried again to open his eyes. He slowly and gingerly pried them open one at a time, first his left, then his right. Forcing open his right eye caused bile to rise to his throat. Sticky blood from a deep gash along his hairline had poured down his face, making his eyelashes adhere to each other. He decided to keep that eye shut, so as not to get more blood into it. Neal raised his right hand to the wound on his forehead and unconsciously flinched when his palm made contact, sending a wave of pain and nausea down his spine.

He took in his surroundings. The amount of dust in the air, combined with the ringing in his ears told him that he'd survived an explosion.

He tried to sit up, but his left arm did not agree with his brain. The movement made dark spots dance in his vision, and he thought he might pass out. It was then that Neal realized that his forearm was pinned beneath the rubble all around him and that his shoulder had slipped out of its natural position. He gritted his teeth and held his breath as he attempted to shift his body upright. He gave up on trying to move and settled with lying on his back as it was better than having his face on the ground.

Neal tried again to retrace his steps, to remember what he had been doing before he'd awoken in this horrible, pain-filled place. He recalled being in the lobby on the ground floor of the FBI building. He'd taken Hannah downstairs to get her out of the offices and show her around.

Before Neal could complete his train of thought, he was yelling, _"Hannah! Hannah, where are you?"_

* * *

_I told you it would be short! The draft was written in a mini notebook while in the waiting room in a doctor's office. Typed it up at 2 a.m. _

_I've always written very dialogue based fics, so this chapter was a real treat/challenge to write without it having a conversation._

_I hope you enjoyed the first installment. Any guesses as to who "Hannah" is? _

_Please review!_


	2. Guilt

_The number of subscribers was astonishing! I wasn't expecting much of a response since this is my first attempt at White Collar. Thank you everyone!_

_In this chapter, Jones reveals a secret and Hannah is introduced._

* * *

2 weeks earlier:

Clinton Jones had pulled Diana, Neal, and even Hughes into Peter's office, declaring that he had an important announcement to make.

Once the agents, plus Caffrey, were inside, Jones closed the door behind him. "Guys, there's something that I've been hiding from you for several years."

The group of people in the room stared back at him expectantly, curious as to exactly what had prompted Jones' strange behavior.

"I'm a father."

"What?" Peter Burke was the first to respond. He'd been Jones' boss for years and was shocked that he'd never revealed this information before.

"I have a six year old daughter named Hannah. She lives in California with her mother and grandmother." Jones seemed to be talking directly to Peter when he said this.

"Six years old? You mean to tell me that nearly seven years ago, when you were just starting out around here, you hid a pregnancy from me?" Peter couldn't believe it.

Neal interjected, "It's not like Jones hid a pregnancy, he obviously wasn't the one pregnant."

"Neal," Peter glared in the direction of his CI.

"I'm just saying," he started, but was cut off by Jones himself.

"Yes, I hid it from you, boss, but only because I was your probie and I didn't want you disappointed in me. We were in the thick of things hunting Caffrey back then." He glanced at the con man. "Eva and I hadn't even been dating that long when she discovered that she was pregnant."

"Who is this woman?" asked Diana, before now she'd been silent.

"Just a beautiful woman trying to make it as a big shot model in New York. Our relationship wasn't that serious. I was just starting out at the bureau and she was trying to find a modeling agent. When she told me that she was pregnant, I was shocked. I promised her that I would provide for our child, but I knew even then that Eva wasn't my soul mate. Our relationship was rocky to put it simply, and just a few months after Hannah was born Eva moved back to San Diego. She took the baby with her."

"I'm sorry about that Jones, but why are you telling us this now?" asked Reese.

"I've only been able to see Hannah a few times. Eva doesn't like to see me, but she's damn happy when she gets the child support money from me. Once I paid for them to come visit, but that was three years ago now. Anyway, Eva really isn't the one raising our child. She's more concerned with partying her life away. I've tried to regain custody in the past, but Hannah's grandmother, Eva's mother, insists on raising her. Now that Mrs. Wilson is in hospice care with terminal cancer, Eva has decided to send Hannah back to New York for me to raise her."

"Oh, so you're going to be raising her alone here now?" Peter couldn't wrap his mind around it; this man that had been working under him for so long was the father of a six year old.

"Yeah, I'm going to be taking some time off so I can fly out to Cali to get her, then get her acclimated to a new life here," explained Jones.

"How is your relationship with Hannah?" asked Neal. He'd grown up without a father, so he could imagine how the little girl might be feeling.

"Honestly? I feel like I barely know her." He shook his head and his voice broke when he continued, "It's my fault. I've been so focused on my career here that my daughter has grown up without me. She knows me as the man who gives her mother money, the man that sends birthday and Christmas presents in the mail, the man that has only come to visit her a few times. I can't wait for her to be here, but I'm afraid she won't like me; that it will be too hard for her to wrap her head around such a drastic lifestyle change."

Neal and Diana left the office offering a few words of encouragement to their colleague. Jones stayed behind to discuss his personal leave with Peter and Hughes.

* * *

Present day:

Clinton Jones had been back in New York for nine days. In that period of time he had converted his spare bedroom into a pink paradise, found a babysitter on his block, and had started to get to know his daughter a little better.

She seemed to trust him more than he'd expected her to. Hannah called her grandmother every night. Jones had heard her crying in her bedroom at night, but when he'd knocked on the door to check on her she'd told him that she didn't want him to come in. It was a big adjustment and Jones decided it best to let Hannah take things at her own pace.

It was a huge adjustment for Jones himself. He'd never had that much time off from work, for one matter. It was also strange just having someone living with him, let alone a child. But it felt good for him to finally step into the role of a father and caregiver, as he'd first set his mind out to do so seven years ago. Now, most of the guilt had lifted off of his shoulders.

Today he was going to show his daughter where he worked. It was a Friday and he was going to return to work the following Monday. Hannah would spend the rest of the summer days at the daycare down the street from where they lived. When August came around, she would start a new school and enter the first grade. The babysitter would pick her up from school every day and Jones would pick her up from daycare when he got off work.

Neal stood up from behind his desk when he saw Jones and Hannah exit the elevator. He had quickly tired of reading the case files and meeting Jones' daughter would be a welcome distraction.

Jones introduced Hannah to Neal, Diana and the other agents in the bullpen. He showed his daughter his desk where he worked. He took her into the conference room where the team discussed cases. He led her into Peter and Hughes' offices so she could meet his bosses. Eventually, Jones brought her back out so he could catch up with Neal and Diana.

Hannah pulled on her father's sleeve, "Where's the bathroom?"

He turned to Diana, "Could you take Hannah to the ladies room?"

The little girl seemed to latch right on to the female agent. Diana made some joke the men couldn't hear and they giggled as they left the room.

"That's one of the things that's hard about being a single father of a girl." Jones muttered to Neal.

"I can imagine!" smirked Neal. Suddenly, his tone turned serious, "Hey, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about. You said that you kept Eva's pregnancy from Peter because it was when you guys were close to reeling me in. I've been thinking about this all week." His blue eyes fixated icily upon the other man's. "Jones, I feel like it's partly my fault that your daughter hasn't been part of your life."

"Don't worry, that's not the case," started Jones.

"I've been feeling really guilty. Haven't been able to sleep."

Jones noticed the dark rings under Neal's eyes. He couldn't believe that Neal Caffrey: art thief, forger and conman had lost sleep to guilty emotions. "Please stop worrying. Trust me, you had nothing to do with it. If you had met Eva, then you would understand."

Neal was going to say something else, but Hannah and Diana were coming back and he didn't want the little girl to know what they had been discussing.

Jones took his daughter's hand into his own, "Well now that we've met everyone here, I think Hannah and I are going to head out. I promised her that we would go make a Build-A-Bear this afternoon."

Peter Burke noticed that Jones was still in the building, so he went down the short flight of stairs and entered the bullpen just as the pair was about to leave.

"Hey Jones, I know you aren't coming back to work until Monday, but I just wanted you to check this out." He handed him a printed email.

"I thought he was in prison." Jones responded after skimming the paper.

"He is, but he assumes that giving up his partner's identity could reduce his sentence."

Jones looked at his daughter, "Hannah, could you stay here with Neal and Diana? I'm gonna talk with Agent Burke in his office really quick. I promise it won't be more than fifteen minutes, and then we'll go."

Jones and Peter walked away muttering about that email.

"Any idea who they're talking about?" Neal asked Diana.

"Your guess is as good as mine." She walked back to her desk, "Look, I was kind of in the middle of something before Jones came in," she looked pleadingly at Neal as if her eyes were saying, _"You can handle her for ten minutes, right Caffrey?"_

Neal took the cue, "Hey Hannah, why don't we go downstairs and check out the cool pictures and things in the lobby? It can get really boring up here in the white collar division when everyone is working." He smirked at Diana and put emphasis on the last word. Neal grabbed his hat and led the six year old out the door.

The pair walked into the elevator, "Would you please push the button with the 'L' on it?" Neal instructed the little girl. "Hey, why do you think there's a star next to that button?"

"It's important!" exclaimed Hannah.

The CI and Jones' not-so-secret daughter exited the elevator on the ground floor. It was the last thing Neal remembered before blacking out.

* * *

_Very different in tone compared to chapter one. And a lot longer! Hannah had what, two lines here? And Neal wasn't as prominent as we all want him to be when this is listed as a Neal fic. I promise the third chapter will have a lot more of both of them!_

_Give it a review! I'm dying to know what everyone thinks. My subscribers know that I love to reply to feedback. Subscribing/favoriting/reviewing always leads to a PM from me!_


	3. Courage

_Chapter three! Chapter three! Chapter three!_

_Hello everyone! This story has gotten a ton of awesome feedback! I'm glad you're all enjoying it. I try to send a message to everyone who subscribes/favorites/reviews but there were a few guest reviews so thank you too! This story is a ton of fun to write and it just flows so much easier than my other fics (sorry to any of those subscribers who may be reading this). _

* * *

"**Keep your fears to yourself, but share your courage with others." ~ Robert Louis Stevenson**

* * *

"_Hannah! Hannah, where are you?"_

In the corner of his vision, Neal noticed a moving blur of pink. Hannah had been wearing a pink floral dress.

"Hannah, are you okay?"

"Neal?" The girl's voice was muffled and it sounded like she was crying.

"Yes, Hannah, it's Neal. Can you come towards me? Just follow my voice, I'm over here." He hoped against hope that Jones' daughter wasn't also pinned under all the rubble.

To his astonishment, the girl was able to move closer to him. "That's right Hannah, come over here by me."

The six year old crawled the remaining few feet then buried her face under Neal's arm.

"I'm scared, Neal." The girl sobbed.

"I know this is a scary situation, but I don't want you to be scared. Look at me, Hannah. I want to see your face."

The girl pulled her head up off of him. The look on her face almost broke Neal's heart. She was absolutely terrified and her dirty face was streaked with tears. When she saw the blood on Neal's face she covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed harder than before.

"Hannah, please stop crying. We're going to be alright. Let me see your face. I know I look terrible right now but I want to make sure you're okay."

She looked at Neal again and bizarrely began laughing, "You do look terrible."

Neal smirked beside himself. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so. My ears feel funny though. And there's dirt in my eyes. I can taste it too."

"Well I'm glad you're okay. Your dad would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

The little girl's face grew dark again, "But are you okay Neal?"

"I'm not going to lie to you Hannah. I'm stuck and my arm is hurt pretty badly. But I don't want you to be scared for me. Someone will come and get us out of here, don't you worry."

Hannah sat up against the right side of Neal's body. He wrapped his good arm around her.

"What happened?"

"Well I think the building fell down on us." He wasn't about to speculate about bombings and terrorism in front of a six year old.

"Do you think my dad is okay?"

"Yeah, I don't think the whole building fell down, otherwise we would be smashed. I think it's just the bottom few floors."

"I shouldn't have pushed that button."

"What?" Neal had no idea what the girl was talking about.

"The L button in the elevator, with the star for it being important. The lobby button, silly!"

"Oh," Neal had to laugh. It was true, kids do say the darndest things! "You didn't do anything wrong, Hannah."

"But if we got off on a different floor we wouldn't be stuck here, Neal! Wait, do you think an airplane hit the building? We learned about that in school. A plane hit a building in New York. We're in New York!"

Neal found it unfathomable that this little girl hadn't even been born yet when 9/11 had taken place. "No, I don't think an airplane caused this."

"Are you sure my dad is okay? And Diana and dad's bosses?"

Neal needed to distract her. He had no way to know if the white collar division, so many floors above them, was intact. "I don't know if my cell phone is going to work down here, but we could try to call them."

Between his left arm being pinned and his right arm being wrapped around the girl, Neal had no way to reach into his pocket. "I need my arm, sweetheart."

Hannah scooted back out of Neal's embrace. He found his phone to be undamaged, but the screen said 'no signal'.

"I found your hat, Neal."

He smiled, "Why don't you try it on?"

He watched as the hat fell over her face, obscuring her eyes. Her head was too small, but she looked downright adorable, in spite of their predicament, with her missing-baby-teeth smile and curly black hair poking out underneath the fedora.

"Okay Ms. Fashionista, my phone says no signal but I'm going to try to make a call anyway."

He tried in vain to reach Jones, then Peter, then Diana. "It's not going through, Hannah."

The girl returned to her previous position at Neal's side, the hat now grasped in her hands.

"Are you friends with my dad?"

"Yeah, we've worked together for a few years. He's a really good FBI agent and he's just a nice guy in general." Neal wasn't about to tell the girl all about his criminal past and the nature of his relationship with Jones. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it's weird living with him now. I mean I've always wanted to live with him because he's so nice and he cares about me and sends me presents. But I feel like I don't know my own dad. All of my friends back in California live with both of their parents and I always feel left out because I live with my mom and my grandma." Neal could see tears forming in her eyes.

"What was it like living in California?" He didn't want her to miss her home, but she had willingly breached the subject herself and Neal just wanted to keep her talking to distract her from the mess they were in.

"My grandma took care of me. Mommy sleeps during the day and she goes places at night. But now grandma is going to die so I have to live with my dad."

He definitely didn't want to discuss the girl's terminally ill grandmother. "I know you're going through a lot of big changes all at once and it's probably hard to keep everything straight. But trust me, your dad might not know what he's doing right now, but that man cares about you deeply and he is probably the best father a girl could ask for."

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"Neal, when you were little did your parents live together?"

"My dad died when I was a boy. I grew up in St. Louis with my mom and a woman named Ellen, who worked with my dad."

"So you were kind of like me."

"Kind of." He smiled, "And I think I turned out all right." He wished Peter could hear this conversation.

"Where's St. Louis?"

"Well you know how California is on one side of the country and New York is on the other side?"

"Yeah."

"St. Louis is in a state called Missouri which is kinda smack dab in the middle of America. Wait a second, did you hear that?"

Hannah bolted upright "It sounds like a police car!"

Multiple sirens were headed their way, as far as Neal could tell. The ringing in his ears had subsided mostly, but it was still present.

* * *

_I always find it mind boggling to talk to kids born after 2001. It's bizarre to me that they learned of 9/11 in a classroom and didn't watch the aftermath that day on live tv. I figured that a smart girl like Hannah would make that connection… New York, building collapse, ect._

_And of course one of Neal's hats had to make a cameo in this story! It wouldn't be a proper WC fic without it! _

_Next chapter we'll learn about Peter, Jones, Diana, and crew upstairs. Are they okay? If so, how are they handling the situation? And we'll learn more about this mysterious explosion! _

_Before I started this fic I described it in conversation as "Neal whump, kids, and terrorism: the perfect combination!"_

_Thank you govgal for catching my mistake... it has been corrected! :)_

_Please review!_


	4. Rescue?

_I just wanted to start out by saying thank you to everyone who has shown interest in this story. Your reviews make me smile!_

_I need to address one reviewer in particular though for another reason. To the anonymous reviewer "Fernandez", please do some research before claiming that I am stealing someone else's work. If you read my through my profile, you will find a list of all of my favorite tv shows. Numb3rs is not on that list. I have only seen a few episodes of that show, so I have never read any fanfiction connected to it. I did not rip off someone's work. Never have, never will. I hope you will continue to read my story. Please send me a PM next time._

_Sorry about that, everyone. As for chapter four I warn you there is a small spoiler here for the latest episode Honor Among Thieves._

_Remember, I don't own White Collar. If I did, I would have the key to Neal's anklet ;) Also, I don't own the song…_

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"**The bravest thing you can do when you are not brave is to profess courage and act accordingly." ~ Corra Harris**

* * *

There was a loud boom and the building shook slightly. The computer and the lights in Peter's office shut off.

"What was that?" asked Jones.

"I'm not sure I want to know." Peter walked out onto the landing outside his door, "But this doesn't bode well."

Jones followed his boss out of the office and took in the electrical shutdown of the floor. The lights were out and the agents were scrambling as the computers and phones they'd previously been on had shut off.

Diana was over at the window. "Look at that!" she shouted to no one in particular.

Peter ran back into his office to look out the window to the street below. "Smoke."

"Shit. The building is on fire," Jones said to himself.

"Wait, it isn't really smoke, it's just dust. Like a huge dust cloud floating up from below."

Jones ran down the stairs to the bullpen, "Diana! Where's Hannah?"

Diana's mouth fell open, "O God, Caffrey took her downstairs."

"What? When?" Jones couldn't believe this was really happening.

"What's going on?" Peter was at Diana's side.

"It's Hannah. She was with Neal."

"And where are they?" Peter didn't think he wanted to know the answer to his question.

"Downstairs." said Diana, the one word carrying the weight of a thousand bricks.

* * *

Emergency dispatchers had fielded dozens of calls. It seemed there had been an explosion at a downtown building where FBI and other government offices were situated. Multitudes of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were sent over and hospitals were ordered to prepare for massive amounts of trauma patients.

The building didn't seem to be on fire, but it was obvious that the lower floors had suffered a large explosion. The first responders were sorted into teams. Some were to treat people who had been in the street at the time of the blast. Glass and dust had rained down on the pavement, creating an environment that seemed to be a scene from a movie. Others were focused on removing the dead and the injured from the wreckage. Another team was tasked with locating the emergency staircase and creating a path to evacuate the people on the upper floors.

One of the first casualties pulled from the building was a bloodied body clothed in the now tattered outfit of a janitor. His nametag, affixed to his breast pocket, reads "Jim".

"I'm so sorry, Jim" whispers the firefighter tasked with identifying the man. He looks at the janitor's face, withered and wrinkled. He has grizzled gray hair and unshaven rough whiskers. The firefighter begins to wonder about his life. What were Jim's dreams? Was he married? Did he have children? Grandchildren?

The firefighter searches through the man's pockets; he finds car keys but no wallet. At last, he reaches into the corpse's breast pocket, not expecting to find anything of value in there, but surprisingly he finds a folded sheet of paper. On it is written: I DID THIS. GO TO 1569 AADAMS AVE. APT. 29

The firefighter turns to the nearest police officer. He is a few feet away attempting to calm down a frantic woman.

"You need to see this."

* * *

"It might be a while before they can get to us." Neal warned Hannah.

"Why?"

"Well we're kind of stuck in this one spot, Hannah. They may have to move the pieces of walls and ceiling so they can get us out."

"But I can climb out. Look, there's a big hole over there, Neal. I can crawl through there!" Hannah pointed to a gap.

"No, I want you to stay here with me." Neal probably would have attempted to climb through the gap himself if he weren't pinned under the rubble. "There could be broken glass; I don't want you getting hurt."

Hannah began crying again, "But I don't want to wait anymore. I'm tired of being stuck down here! I want to find my daddy and I want to go home!"

Seeing the little girl giving up hope almost brought tears to Neal's eyes. "Why don't you lie down? Right here, against me."

The six year old turned back and rested her head in the crook of Neal's right shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her small figure and started to slowly rub her back as her sobs shook her entire body. Neal had never held a child like this before, but he remembered that once when he was a young boy his mother had let him sleep alongside her in her bed after he'd had a nightmare.

"Shhh. You're going to be home soon, okay." He was reassuring himself just as much as he was Hannah with that statement. Hannah's sobs were subsiding and Neal could feel her breathing heavily at his side.

"Do you promise?" she whispered. Neal could barely hear her.

"Promise what?" he whispered back.

"That I can go home."

"Yes, I promise that once the police and firefighters get to us you can go home."

"But what about my dad? What if we don't find him?" Hannah sniffled.

"Don't you worry, Hannah. We'll find him."

"But… We don't know if he's okay. He might be stuck somewhere too." Hannah reached out and placed her arm across Neal's chest. He involuntarily sucked in a breath, worried that she would disturb his aching shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"No, I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. Hannah, I'm imagining your dad right now. I bet he's pacing back and forth worried about you."

"And you, right? Don't you think my dad is worried about you too?"

Neal laughed, "I don't know about that. He's probably mad at me for taking you downstairs."

"But I wanted to go. He won't get mad at you."

A maddening thought then crossed Neal's mind, 'I could have taken her to the top floor to see the city from up high. Damn it, we wouldn't be in this position now.'

Neal closed his eyes and tensed his body as a wave of pain went down his spine. But having Hannah at his side somehow lessened the pain. It calmed him to know that he wasn't alone here.

"Hey Neal," again the little girl whispered almost too softly to be heard.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me a story?"

His left eye snapped open; the right one still glued shut with dried blood and dust. "I don't know any stories, Hannah."

"A song maybe?"

He laughed, incredulous, "You want me to sing you a song?" 'As we are trapped under a collapsed building waiting to be rescued?' he wanted to continue, but resisted the urge.

"Please?" There was a whine in her voice. No, not a whine, the whimpering plea of a frightened, tired child. Who was he to refuse?

Out of nowhere a faded memory came to surface. He quietly began to warble the lyrics to a lullaby. It was something that Ellen used to sing to him to help him fall asleep.

"_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home _

_I looked over Jordan and what did I see, Comin' for to carry me home _

_A band of angels comin' after me, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home _

_If you get to heaven before I do, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Tell all my friends I'm comin' there too, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home _

_Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry me home_"

Neal couldn't remember the remaining verses, so he continued humming the chorus. That song had brought back too many repressed memories. A single heavy tear fell down Neal's cheek. The salty drop carried away feelings of grief for Ellen, fear, and pain.

"Neal?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I hear something moving." Just as the girl said it, the beam of a flashlight shined through the gap. Hannah crawled out from Neal's grasp. "Hey, are you here to get us out?"

Neal couldn't help but smile at Jones' daughter's question. The girl definitely wasn't shy.

"What's your name?" asked the police officer.

"What's yours?" Hannah countered.

"My name is Joe."

"Nice to meet you Joe! My name is Hannah."

"Hello there, Hannah. Do you think you can climb through this hole over to me?"

The little girl shook her head and her curls wobbled correspondingly, "I'm not leaving Neal."

"Who's Neal?" asked the officer.

Hannah scooted out of the way so Joe could look through the gap. "That's Neal," she pointed to the CI she had spent the better part of an hour with. "He's my daddy's friend. This is his hat." She picked up the aforementioned fedora and passed it through the hole to the police officer.

"Neal?" the officer addressed him.

"Yeah?"

"Are you hurt, Neal?"

Caffrey nodded then realized that the cop probably couldn't see him in the darkened space he was stuck in. "Yes. Um, my arm is pinned."

"And he has a bloody forehead!" interjected Hannah.

"You two hold tight. I'm going to be right back with more help so we can get you out of here."

"Thank you."

* * *

_The lullaby is called "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." _

_So now we've seen Jones' reaction. And how about that Jim the Janitor guy? hmmm..._

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think there will be just one more (slight possibility it have two more)._

_Please review :)_


	5. Not Alone

_I know I say the same thing every chapter, but it's true! I had a ton of fun writing this fic! Thank you to everyone who has come along for the ride! _

* * *

"**In prosperity our friends know us; in adversity we know our friends." ~ John Churton Collins**

* * *

It took four emergency responders about half an hour, but finally Neal was taken out of that small space. They put him on a backboard and carried him out of the devastated building. If his arm hadn't been crushed under the weight of the debris, Neal probably would have walked away relatively unscathed, just like Hannah.

She hadn't wanted to leave Neal, but eventually Joe, the police officer, convinced Hannah that she needed to be out of the way so they could get Neal out. She had been taken outside and examined by the medics.

Once he had been carried out of the wreckage, the EMTs put Neal onto a stretcher and rolled it toward an ambulance. When Hannah finally saw Neal again she ran from the responder she'd been paired with.

"Neal!" the girl bounced up, trying to see her new friend but the EMTs taking care of him were blocking her view.

"Hannah!" Neal extended his good arm out to her. He turned to the man who was attempting to wrap his mangled arm, "Has anyone found Agent Clinton Jones of the white collar division yet? This is his daughter."

"We evacuated the upper floors a while ago. They came out the opposite side of the building though. If he is waiting for his daughter, he's probably over there."

"Can you find someone to take her to him? I'm sure Jones is worried sick about her."

The woman who had been sitting with Hannah before walked over. "Why don't we go look for your daddy?"

"Wait!" she exclaimed. The six year old then turned to the men that were attending to Neal, "He's going to be okay, right?"

Neal answered her before the EMT could open his mouth, "I'm going to be just fine, Hannah. I'll see you later, okay? Go find your dad."

The woman led the girl away before she had a chance to respond. All she could do was wave goodbye.

The men loaded Neal into the ambulance. He had been the last injured person to be removed from the building.

During the ride to the hospital Neal laid silent, thinking. The pain meds he'd been injected with were certainly doing their job. He reflected upon his situation. The limited ability of his left arm was certainly going to alter his habits for some time. Right now he just hoped that the injury was a temporary one. He was sure that the doctors were going to need to operate on it, but now he began to think about negative hypotheticals. What if they had to amputate it? What if the damage was so severe his arm would never be the same?

This got him thinking about the people in his life. He didn't have any family to speak of. Sure, his parents were out there somewhere, but they didn't count. Ellen, the woman he regarded as a family member, almost as a second mother, was gone. Kate… why did he always think of her when bad things happened? Kate, his first love, the woman that he had intended to propose to was long dead. Love… that made him think of Sara. Sure, their relationship was that of an on-again-off-gain nature, but he had been thinking about her more and more lately, especially now that Ellen had been killed. And there was always Mozzie and June. Those two would almost certainly be the ones to take care of him as he recovered from this. IF he recovered from this. God, these thoughts were getting too depressing. Neal gave up and tried to allow his mind to wander to other things as the gentle rocking of the ambulance and the sedative effect of the drugs relaxed his body.

* * *

Neal opened his eyes. 'Yes, eyes plural,' he thought, happy that the blood and gunk were gone. He took in the four green walls and the off-white ceiling tiles of the small room he found himself in. 'Must be the surgery recovery room,' he observed. He couldn't feel his left arm, but he glanced down and saw that it was still attached to his body, albeit wrapped up.

He then noticed the man sitting in the chair across from him.

"Jones," he said. The word came out a little raspy.

"Hey Caffrey, you're up! Forgive me for not getting out of my chair." He used his head to motion downwards at the young girl sleeping in his lap. Hannah's head was snuggled up against her father's shoulder, his arms wrapped around her.

"How's she doing?" Neal asked.

"The medics checked her over and said she was fine. I took her home and she took a much needed bath. But then she told me we had to come visit you in the hospital, so here we are."

"That's sweet." Neal smiled. Even if he was single and had no family, it was nice to know that at least one person cared. He thought it funny that the person was the six year old daughter of an FBI agent whose job it was to keep him in line.

"Neal, you have got to give me some lessons. Every woman who comes into contact with you falls in love with you instantly. Even first graders!" Jones laughed. "Seriously though, Caffrey, thank you for what you did today. You took great care of her and drove the fear away even though you were trapped and hurt. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you, you saved her life."

"I didn't save her life. She wasn't even hurt." Neal choked on his words, he didn't want to cry. "If anything, she saved mine. I can't imagine how terrible it would have been to be alone down there."

Jones shook his head, "I'm glad it was you though, Neal. Could you imagine Hughes or Peter stuck with her?" He couldn't stop himself from laughing at his own joke.

Neal laughed too, "She's quite the character, that's for sure. Hey Jones, I was thinking about something. I remember meeting that woman, Isabelle was it? Where does she fall into all this? Sorry, you don't have to answer that if it's too personal."

"Eva was my 'rebound', so to say, from Isabelle. I even brought her along to their wedding, kinda as an I-can-do-better-than-you move. What can I say? I was young and stupid back then."

Neal would have responded but a nurse walked into the room. "Sorry to interrupt," she smiled toward Jones, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave as we check over your friend."

"That's fine. When you're done will it be okay if I bring everyone in?"

"Yes, as long as Mr. Caffrey is alright with that."

Neal looked at Jones suspiciously, "What do you mean by 'everyone'?"

Clinton got up from his chair and readjusted his hold on Hannah's sleeping form. "You'll see. Oh, by the way, Hannah brought your hat back for you. I'll just leave it in this chair."

* * *

'God, Jones wasn't kidding when he said "everyone,"' thought Neal as he watched the seventh, and final, person file in and surround his hospital bed. Jones, Hannah (now awake and holding her father's hand), Peter, Elizabeth, Diana, Mozzie, and lastly Sara were now all crowded in around him.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" asked Elizabeth, concern written across her face.

"Okay, we're going to need a few ground rules here," started Neal, who was now sitting up in his bed, "First of all, I am fine, so please don't ask again. I'm dead serious, Moz." He saw his bald friend was about to open his mouth to protest. "Ugh, there are so many of you! Okay, number two, no crying. If anyone cries you're just going to make me cry and I can't be crying in front of all of you!" This comment caused Diana, Sara, and Jones to smile. "Peter, where do I start with you? Okay, stop making that face. I know you're concerned, but as I already stated, I am fine, so you need to stop." Neal smiled as El stroked her husband's arm. "Okay, I think that covers the bases. Just don't smother me!"

When Neal finished, four voices all spit questions at him simultaneously, but it was too much at one time and he didn't catch any of it. He noticed that Hannah had raised her hand, as if she were trying to get a teacher's attention.

"Yes, Hannah?" He smiled.

"Neal, can I sit on your bed and give you a hug?"

Several of the people in the room laughed.

"Of course you can, Hannah." The girl climbed up onto the hospital bed and sat beside her friend. He wrapped his arm around her, "Now why don't you tell everyone the story about what happened to us today?"

Neal was glad that Hannah was there. She took some of the attention off of him and that was a welcome relief. 'I guess I was wrong before, these people all came here out of concern for my wellbeing. I'm not alone. I have all of my family and friends right here.'

Diana then Mozzie were among the first to leave. Everyone had stayed at least an hour talking in the hospital room. Neal had no idea how long they'd all been waiting for him to wake up in the first place.

Jones eventually decided to bring their visit to an end, "Hannah, I think it is way past your bedtime. Mine too! Why don't you tell Neal goodbye?"

She was barely awake as it was. For the past half hour she'd been growing increasingly quieter. Neal's breathing at her side lulled her so much that she could barely keep her eyes open.

Hannah gave Neal a kiss on the cheek, "Goodnight, Neal. I'm gonna see you soon, right?"

Neal whispered in the girl's ear, "Yes, I'll see you soon. Don't let your dad forget that he promised you a Build-a-Bear. Goodbye, Hannah."

The little girl giggled and smiled as she walked out of the room with her father, causing the remaining visitors to wonder just what Neal had said to her.

Now it was down to just Sara and the Burkes. "I'm going to go get some coffee, does anybody want anything?" proposed Sara.

El smiled, "No, I think we're going to be heading out soon. Thanks for the offer though."

Peter gestured toward the hospital room's TV. "Do you see the remote for this thing?"

Neal found it sitting on the bedside table, "You're not going to turn on some game, are you?" He asked before surrendering the remote.

"No, I just wanted to see if there was any more news coverage of today's event. We had the TV on in the waiting room. I've been making some calls, trying to hear more about the bomb, see if they have any suspects, that kind of thing. They found the guy. He was killed in the explosion, dressed as a janitor. The theory right now is that it didn't go according to plan. Only half of it detonated, something like that. I'm sure he wanted to whole building to come down!"

"Well thank God it didn't, hon!" exclaimed Elizabeth.

Peter flipped through the channels, "See, CNN is still covering it."

Neal read the screen, '17 KILLED AND 64 WOUNDED IN NYC EXPLOSION'

The image changed from showing the building they worked in to showing what looked like a dumpy apartment. Words were carved into the walls. The commentator spoke, "The bomber, who police have identified as James O'Leary, seems to have been seeking revenge upon the FBI. Michael and Tony O'Leary, James' step-brother and cousin were convicted of bank fraud in the 1980s. The FBI was involved in the massive operation. The O'Leary Duo is still legendary today. James had carved into the walls, quote: 'the FBI has ruined our family name'. Meanwhile…"

Neal had heard enough, "Turn it off Peter, I think I get the gist of it."

"But," Peter started to protest until he saw the expression on Neal's face. "Okay." He shut the television off. "Doesn't make much sense, does it?" he asked quietly.

"Crazy people will do crazy things. But seventeen dead?" He shook his head in disgust.

"And there's no one to seek revenge upon anyway! There aren't many agents still around from thirty years ago, well except for Hughes. That man has been there forever!"

El smirked at the comment about Reese. "Okay, Peter, I think we should head on home now. Remember, Neal said he was fine, actually, repeatedly! I think we've outstayed our welcome."

Peter nodded. Sara quietly reentered the room.

Elizabeth walked over and gave Neal a hug, "We'll come see you tomorrow, okay? You know I'm gonna bake something for you, so what do you want?"

"You don't have to make me anything, El." Neal protested.

"Fine, I'll surprise you." Mrs. Burke wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Neal chuckled, "Goodnight, you two. Thank you for visiting me, it really means a lot."

They said their goodbyes and walked out hand in hand.

"So, it looks like it's just the two of us now." Sara pointed out as she sat down on the side of Neal's bed. She had been very quiet with the whole gang around. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm glad you're okay, Neal."

The End

* * *

_I'm done! I'm really done! I'm kinda sad now. But that feeling of fulfillment when you've completed a story always helps with that._

_I might as well do this here… I am a registered Beta reader… If you like my writing style and need help with a fic, send me a PM. Even if you just need advice or have questions, I can help you out! _

_Please review…. Maybe it will help with some feelings of withdrawal. _


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